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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24275971">Short Stories</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatieKomics/pseuds/KatieKomics'>KatieKomics</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Ghosts, Horror, Murder, Original Fiction, Psychological Horror, Short</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 00:36:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>487</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24275971</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatieKomics/pseuds/KatieKomics</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Each new chapter is a new story. Every chapter will start off with a description of the short story. With each new chapter, tags will be added to the story. The first chapters will be updated versions of the old uploads to my, now inactive, Wattpad account. The first chapter recounts a visit to the old lake docks in the dead of night.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Short Stories</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Blood Red is a short story originally written for the Wattpad #writewithzo contest in 2018. It's the dead of night; welcome to the lakeside.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The night around me is overcast and suffocating. I stand over the pier and look out over the murky water. The fog around me twists like steam rising off a heated pot. It blends into a vague horizon over the calm, inky lake. I stare over the monochromatic surface and drag my duffel bag closer to me. The wooden pier splinters against the rough material as I haul it closer to the edge.<br/><br/>"It'll be cold," the raspy voice behind me whines.  They gurgle when they speak.<br/><br/>"You'll be fine,"  I say.  "It won't be that bad.  Clear your throat. "<br/><br/>My response prompts another droning complaint from behind me, this time incomprehensible.  I continue staring over the lake.  I take a few steps back before kneeling down and trying to roll the bag forwards.  It's far too heavy for me to heave the entire thing over the edge in one push but light enough for me to move bit by bit.<br/><br/>"<span class="s-or-t">Cold</span>,"  my company mutters.  "Too cold, it'll be too cold."<br/><br/>"Hush,"  I reply.  My voice develops a slight sharpness.  <br/><br/>As I roll the bag closer to the edge of the pier, the annoying mumbles and repetitions become a high-pitched sobbing.  Their ragged breath smells of something awful and neglected. It's tinted with burning iron and quickly overtaking the air around me, making it warm and heavy.  <br/><br/><span class=""> "Too cold,  <span class="s-rg-t">can </span><span class="s-rg-t">feel </span>it,  <span class="s-or-t">cold </span>and alone," the terrible voice speaks hastily. </span>  They take in a deep and loud breath that rattles in the back of their throat.  "Don't leave."  I feel as though they are looming over me.<br/><br/>I don't answer the pleading.  I don't turn around to meet the gaze of my company.  I relentlessly focus all my strength into another push as one side of my duffel bag hangs slightly over the edge of the dock.  The pitiful droning from behind me transitions into a terrified wailing.<br/><br/>"Hush!"  I scold the voice behind me.  It continues to sob despite my interruption.  <br/><br/>I turn to watch the figure behind me as I push the duffel bag over the pier and into the water. <span class="">  The stones I had left inside drag it under the surface almost immediately, leaving behind a shrinking spot of darkness and ripples that bubble and fade as quickly as they appear. </span>  <br/><br/>I face my company and hold their gaze.  Their haggard eyes are glassy and sunken but the rest of them is very much alive.  They're dressed in a brand-new suit that was recently ruined by stains and mud.  It had once been lavish but now it's nothing more than a ruined outfit torn apart where the wearer's joints should be.  <br/><br/>My company cries thick tears as their intangible form is dragged through the rotten wood of the docks and into the filthy water.  I watch as they cry for me not to leave them. Their last words are complaints of the cold water.  <br/><br/></p>
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